THE GIRL IN HIS HOUSE
"Congratulations!" she said.
"Are these mine?"
"They are. Don't you understand?"
"Miss Corrigan, I'm only a benighted grasshopper."
"And a very poor business man. It means that somewhere you have a trifle over two hundred thousand dollars out in first or second mortgages. I've taken these checks over myself many times and deposited them."
Armitage did rather an unconventional thing. He seized Miss Corrigan by the shoulders and waltzed her around the room. There was a good deal of astonishment and protest in the young woman's eyes, but there was no resentment. She understood this exuberance. From the abyss of genteel poverty—her own lot—he had been wafted back to affluence, to the old order of things.
"I hope you'll forgive me. Miss Corrigan," he said, suddenly releasing her.
"It was rather unexpected." Her laughter had a break in it. There was a bit of color in her cheeks as she patted her hair.
"Where can I find a sign-painter?" he asked.
49
